


The King's Heart

by Runners in the Glade (Beautiful_lies_x)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Royalty AU, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_lies_x/pseuds/Runners%20in%20the%20Glade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>emjellybean asked:</p><p>Hey! Can you write a little prompt thing? Where Minho is a King and Thomas is a peasant who tried stealing something from him, but was caught and Minho takes pity on Thomas because he's seen him around and he actually kinda likes him (and just because he isn't an asshole king). I don't know. Think you could make something with it? ^_^</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY FIRSTLY HI, ILY.  
> Secondly, this may not be the best considering I was mostly totally delirious when I wrote it and I am so sorry for that because it’s an adorable prompt.  
> Thirdly, before anyone asks, I have NO idea when this is set. It’s not totally medieval but it’s not modern, and I don’t really know, you can draw your own conclusions. Let’s just call it an AU, and be done with it, yeah?  
> Fourthly, I am so awed that you prompted me bc you are super cool and ilysfm and I’m pretty sure that’s it’s obvious that my fever is overriding my brain functions but, hi, sorry, & thank you anyway! AND OH MY GOD WARNING FOR THE FLUFFIEST MOST UNBELIEVABLE WHAT IS THIS CLICHÉ EVER.

“Right.” Thomas told himself, firmly. “I’ve got this. I just have to get pass the guards at the gate, get past the guards at the door, get past the guards at the hall, get past the guards at the dining area and fool the king.” His entire face crumpled as he realised the stupidity of the plan he was about to undertake. “I am going to die.” He dead panned, running a hand down his face. “Bloody, violent murder. Do they still chop people’s heads off?”  
He stalked towards the palace gates, slinking down low in the grass, the cowl of his cloak doused his face in shadows. He inched closer to the guards, body moving fluidly. His movements grew in their haste as he took cover behind the table, watching the guards chatter quietly among themselves. Thomas cursed his own pitiful existence and settled down to wait for the window of five minute opportunity he would be presented with when the guards changed.

His back ached with the position he’d held for far too long. He closed his eyes with reverence when the guard stood up, and marched tiredly inside the gates as the moon slid into place and illuminated the dark night. Thomas moved quickly, his last chance slipping away from him as the other solider came towards the post. Keeping his head down, he sprinted to the wall, pressing a hand to the jagged rock of the gate. He turned his head, eyes wide with panic as he saw the other man approaching. Thomas did the first thing he thought of. He scaled the wall. The rocks dug into his hands, leaving bloody marks along his palms but he continued onwards. He reached valiantly for the top, but his fingers could not clasp over the rough surface. He cursed as his hand slipped, leaving him dangling from the looming wall by his fingernails. The guard below him stiffened at the noise and Thomas froze, his heart pounding in his ears. The solider stepped forward, looking out into the darkness of the night, eyes squinting. Thomas took the opportunity to move further up the wall, quick and efficient, swinging his leg over the top of the wall.  
Thomas smirked, “I knew you could do it,” he whispered to himself, pulling his other leg over the wall. The movement caused his body to fling sideways, and he came toppling downwards, screaming curses the whole way. His body slammed into the ivy that lined the bottom of the wall. He groaned, pressing a hand to his head as the sound of echoing footsteps drew nearer.   
“Fuck.” He whispered, and then blacked out.

He came to consciousness in the large, circular throne room with the King looking down at him worriedly. He took him gently by the arms, settling him in an upright position. Thomas groaned as his muscles protested the movement. The king’s forehead creased as the brunet winced at the effort. Thomas’ mind finally connected the dots, and he scrambled backwards from the king’s arms, frantic.   
“Oh shit!” He stuttered, “I wasn’t trying to steal from you, promise.” He lied.  
Minho’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’m sure you weren’t.” He said, voice lathered in sarcasm. A surprised smile graced his face suddenly. “You’re Thomas, aren’t you?”  
Thomas stared at him warily, nodding. _“Oh my God, please don’t know my name because of my overdue taxes.”_ was a repeating thought in his head, like a mantra.   
Minho laughed, “No! Not because of that!”  
Thomas blushed a deep and fiery crimson when he realised he’d spoken aloud.  
“You work at the shop around the corner, don’t you?”  
Thomas frowned, brow creasing. “You know that?”  
Minho grinned, “Of course I know that.” He hesitated, sounding nervous. “I’ve noticed you around before.”  
The brunet bit his lip gently, a breathless half-laugh escaping. “You’ve noticed me?”  
Minho did not blush, because kings do not blush. Especially kings who’s belongings were attempted to be stolen. Minho did NOT blush. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”  
Thomas grinned at the ground. “Hey, I’d tell you the same thing, but considering the ‘Almighty King’ status and all, I hardly think it would mean the same thing.”  
Minho threw his head back and laughed, “So, clumsy Thomas from the corner store who doesn’t pay his taxes, and fell off a wall trying to steal something, is there any chance I’ll see you again, under better, less criminal circumstances?”  
Thomas could barely contain his smile. “I think I’d like that.”  
“Good. Then you better not try and steal anything again.”  
Thomas snorted, “Yes, because I was ever so good at it.”  
The king gave him a mischievous smile. “Well, you managed to steal one thing.”  
“And what was that?”  
“My heart.”


End file.
